The Show
Imagine being someone who has the words ‘Magners’ or ‘advert’ regularly shouted at you as you go about your everyday business, bloody annoying right? Welcome to the life of Mark Watson; essentially a down to earth bloke who thanks to one, by his own admission, regrettable pear cider advert later, is now deemed an acceptable target for such behaviour. Of course it’s not just the advert but numerous TV appearances (Mock the Week, Never Mind the Buzzcocks, Have I got News for you and many more) that have lead to people wondering whether or not they know this seemingly familiar man they meet on the train or pass by in the street.
As a title, ‘Do I know you?’ would suggest that these encounters are what form the basis of his show, and indeed Watson does deliver a few cracking related anecdotes, but they are by no means at the heart of the show. Instead the audience is treated to front row seats as Watson takes them on a journey from despair to, if not hope, at least an acceptance that shit happens, encountering tales of sausage rolls, Derren Brown and Hiroshima (yes really) along the way.
The man
All of this is delivered in Watson’s typically engaging ‘too much to say, not enough time’ manner but there’s no doubt that the audience is in safe hands, even if the man himself seems to question it on occasions. It’s this manner that allows him to get away with descending into
what would otherwise be bleak topics including his own mortality (something which suddenly seemed closer than assumed as he perilously flirted with the edge of the stage). Transitions are smooth (something other comedians would do well to learn) and there is a ‘completeness’ to his show as he skilfully ties together any loose ends before the hour is up. The audience leaves feeling that that particular chapter is complete even if Watson’s not had the time to tell you the rest of his story, though tell you it he would; something he freely admits when taking a rare moment to pause for breath – “You came out to see a man talk, and bloody hell he can talk!”
The added bonus
Despite this the show actually began in, *shock horror*, silence, well at least from the comedian himself, whilst the audience delighted in Watson’s new way of passing time as people take their seats. Known for his madcap approach to shows (hence the birth of the 24, 33 and 36 hour marathon shows), this preview saw Watson sat on the stage communicating with his audience by typing to them; passing comment on the audience’s shenanigans including a particularly bossy lady in the front row. Comedians have long tried to find innovative ways of beginning their shows, but this one really worked. It’ll never be the same twice and you can’t help but feel you're getting a little ‘added extra’, besides Watson is often at his wittiest when making off the cuff remarks as is the case throughout the show.
That’s not to say that the effort Watson has clearly put into the show is in vain. With a month still to go until the Edinburgh Festival kicks off, this preview proved that his show, just like the Watson-endorsed cider, is already close to guaranteeing 0% disappointment. As he admits singing “Please don’t die” to his baby boy, the same can be said about Watson; he’s a young comic with too many people still to witness his genius live, to pop his clogs, comedy or otherwise.
Comedy Hen
Imagine being someone who has the words ‘Magners’ or ‘advert’ regularly shouted at you as you go about your everyday business, bloody annoying right? Welcome to the life of Mark Watson; essentially a down to earth bloke who thanks to one, by his own admission, regrettable pear cider advert later, is now deemed an acceptable target for such behaviour. Of course it’s not just the advert but numerous TV appearances (Mock the Week, Never Mind the Buzzcocks, Have I got News for you and many more) that have lead to people wondering whether or not they know this seemingly familiar man they meet on the train or pass by in the street.
As a title, ‘Do I know you?’ would suggest that these encounters are what form the basis of his show, and indeed Watson does deliver a few cracking related anecdotes, but they are by no means at the heart of the show. Instead the audience is treated to front row seats as Watson takes them on a journey from despair to, if not hope, at least an acceptance that shit happens, encountering tales of sausage rolls, Derren Brown and Hiroshima (yes really) along the way.
The man
All of this is delivered in Watson’s typically engaging ‘too much to say, not enough time’ manner but there’s no doubt that the audience is in safe hands, even if the man himself seems to question it on occasions. It’s this manner that allows him to get away with descending into
what would otherwise be bleak topics including his own mortality (something which suddenly seemed closer than assumed as he perilously flirted with the edge of the stage). Transitions are smooth (something other comedians would do well to learn) and there is a ‘completeness’ to his show as he skilfully ties together any loose ends before the hour is up. The audience leaves feeling that that particular chapter is complete even if Watson’s not had the time to tell you the rest of his story, though tell you it he would; something he freely admits when taking a rare moment to pause for breath – “You came out to see a man talk, and bloody hell he can talk!”The added bonus
Despite this the show actually began in, *shock horror*, silence, well at least from the comedian himself, whilst the audience delighted in Watson’s new way of passing time as people take their seats. Known for his madcap approach to shows (hence the birth of the 24, 33 and 36 hour marathon shows), this preview saw Watson sat on the stage communicating with his audience by typing to them; passing comment on the audience’s shenanigans including a particularly bossy lady in the front row. Comedians have long tried to find innovative ways of beginning their shows, but this one really worked. It’ll never be the same twice and you can’t help but feel you're getting a little ‘added extra’, besides Watson is often at his wittiest when making off the cuff remarks as is the case throughout the show.
That’s not to say that the effort Watson has clearly put into the show is in vain. With a month still to go until the Edinburgh Festival kicks off, this preview proved that his show, just like the Watson-endorsed cider, is already close to guaranteeing 0% disappointment. As he admits singing “Please don’t die” to his baby boy, the same can be said about Watson; he’s a young comic with too many people still to witness his genius live, to pop his clogs, comedy or otherwise.
Comedy Hen
